


Serendipity

by Freya1970



Category: Terminator (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fondling, Getting to Know Each Other, It was his idea all along, Sexual Situations, Uncle Bob Survives, Uncle Bob knows better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:05:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freya1970/pseuds/Freya1970
Summary: Bob and Sarah get a little bit closer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2011 as an answer to all the post-Terminator 2 movies/tv series coming out. I was angry, to say the least, that the so called powers that be got greedy and started producing more movies though T2 was to be the end of the series. 
> 
> I also firmly believe that 'Uncle Bob' would have been fine as a provider for Sarah and John.

With the sound of the door closing; John was gone for an overnight stay with a friend and I found myself alone. I moped around the kitchen for several minutes before ‘Bob’ had come home, realizing that even though he was just twelve; John was growing up and very much becoming his own person. I knew the day would come soon enough I would have to realize that he would be moving away to college and with him, Bob would go with him. This is the way, in fact, Bob had found me when he returned from his work. Mulling over the inevitable.

After closing the door, the machine that had become part of our family, being the father figure John never really had and a rather stable ‘husband’ I have always dreamt of; he seemed to search for a John for a moment. “He’s over Rick’s for the night.”

Bob nodded and then put his lunch pail down and then went over and flipped on the television as he always did. Bob had acquired a taste for television as it was the only unbiased way he could learn about the human condition, as he had so aptly put it. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and hunted for the bottle opener only to have my drink grabbed by Bob and opened. “Here,” he told me.

For a moment I wondered why he did it, but I simply put it up to John telling him to ‘help’ me whenever I needed it. Only if Bob could suddenly reveal that he was human, then he could take care of the fires that seemed to come alive every night before I go to bed.

I remembered the words of my physician clear as a bell as if she had said it yesterday: “It doesn’t matter if a woman has one child or fifteen; the clock ticks for every one of us.”

Beer took the edge off temporarily, but it was just that. Temporary.

“Why do you tremble,” Bob asked me after the Wheel of Fortune had come on.

I shrugged not really realizing the answer myself. “Nervous.”

“That is not the answer,” he said to me. “There are several other signs that you are simply not nervous.”

“Leave me alone , Bob.”

“A sure sign that being left alone is not what you want.”

I glared at him then. “What I want isn’t any concern of yours.”

Bob flipped off the television then, garnering my undivided attention. “I have noticed our interaction isn’t what it should be.”

I rolled my eyes and took another swig of my beer. “Well, no fucking duh. You’re a robot and I’m a human—”

“Wrong, I’m a cybernetic organism.”

There was not arguing with Bob about this point. I’d only lose the argument once again. “And your point is?” I asked, moving to go end the argument by putting some distance between us. However, the machine surprised me by reaching out and stopping.

“You need more than just a son and someone who goes to work and comes home,” he told me looking me straight in the eye with all the seriousness of the programmed killer that he was. “And John needs more from me than someone who goes to work to earn his college money.”

I was truly perplexed at what the machine was suggesting. For a moment, I thought he was suggesting that I ‘divorce’ him and find a father figure for John and a lover for me. “He needs more of an interaction between you and me,” he told me.

Before I could laugh in the face of the machine, he pulled me into a kiss, something I hadn’t expected from Bob in a million years. It was sweet as kisses went from an inexperienced machine. I knew what he looked like underneath his skin. I knew what he was capable of, yet his lips were tender and his hand was gentle. For a moment, just a moment, I forgot that he wasn’t human and thought that this was a man who cared for me; who loved me. It was…wonderful, that feeling of being cared for; to be a little selfish. I opened my eyes and felt him staring straight ahead at me. His eyes were on the borderline of expressive and unexpressive. Almost as if he wanted this to happen between us for whatever insane reason.

“Did John put you up to this,” I asked harshly. I tried to pull away but I found myself unable to, he was holding me that tightly.

“No,” he explained. “This is out of my own observation of our situation,” he told me. “You need this,” he told me, gently brushing my lips with his. “I want it to happen between us.”

The seriousness of his tone, the softening of his gaze from ambiguous to something akin to desire made me begin to realize that Bob had become something more to our family than simply the wage earner as he had put it. “I’m not sure if I want to share this with you, us humans become attached as it were and—”

Bob nodded in acknowledgement interrupting my train of thought. “You have already become attached to me and the reverse is true,” he told me as his hand travelled down my back until it rested on my ass. “But John in order to form better relationships in the future,” Bob told me, “

"We need to demonstrate how this is done.”

So there it was. Bob wanted us to fuck simply for John’s sake of learning what a healthy relationship was like. It wasn’t about her or him but John. I found myself headed backwards towards my small bedroom at the north end of the trailer we lived in. I felt the heady rise of anticipation of what was to come of this. I found myself weaved in a strange cocoon of logic and need.

Yes, I needed this as much as any other woman needed it. Since John had been my focus I had all but ignored what Bob had described as what I needed. How could he tell? Was living together for two years or simple human biology? I wasn’t sure if he would ever tell me how he knew that I was in fact quite attracted to him.

Stockholm syndrome came to mind, but he wasn’t our captor, but more of our protector and provider. Could it be like loving a favorite car or even a favorite blender, when one becomes attached to an object? However, normally, one threw them away when they were irreparable.  
You just tossed them away.

The heat in the fiery pit below was enough to make her uncomfortable. I stopped the chain lift right before it dunked him into the molten metal. The T-1000 deserved its fate. Bob didn’t. He had a name. John had called him that at Enrique’s place. He had a consciousness. That much was apparent when he told us to lower him down into the vat. I closed my eyes and swore as I reversed the mechanism and brought him back up level with us.

“Why,” Bob asked over John’ cheerful cries after he brought himself back over to where we were.

“I’m not a murderer. I found that out with Dyson,” I had answered John was hugging me and Bob now. That’s when we truly became John’s family.

Coming back out of the memory I found Bob staring down on me. “What are you thinking about,” he asked me.

“The time in the foundry when I decided that you were more than just a machine,” I admitted.

He ran his thumb softly over my cheek. It was almost as if the machine was loaded with every cliché that ever existed. His eyes softened into something more than a mechanical blank stare that used to grace his countenance until he discovered that the muscles in his face were for more than just scowling. “I care, Sarah,” he told me. “I want you to know that I care as much as I’m capable of caring.”

Would it be enough? I was used to men caring as much as it took for them to train me and John. I gave myself to men for lesser reasons.

But somehow, in my flesh and blood heart, I wanted the one person that protected us; provided for us, to love me. My rational mind told me the machine couldn’t love me and Bob was right, John needed to learn that his mother was more than a cold hearted trained killer. He needed to learn what a woman in love looked like; how she acted. It would steer him clear of those who used him and abused him. My heart pushed back the eternal flame that would continue to smolder in her heart and let the ma— Bob in.

I could have stopped him there and told simply told him that I would act as though I was the good wife; I’m sure, but Bob pressed his advantage. Button by button he undid my blouse stopping each time to plant a kiss on the bared flesh. By the fifth kiss, all questions of how he learned this technique had gone from my mind, and I was simply enjoying myself. He had grown impatient I guess and tore away at the remainder of the blouse.

Bob spread my blouse wide exposing my bra. “I have always wondered,” he began as he tore off my bra in one swift action, holding it up for a closer examination. “Why do women bind their breasts?” While his voice was curious it did nothing but fire my need for his attention.

“And I suppose you think I know,” I half joked. But the seriousness in Bob’s eyes told me he wanted my explanation. I shrugged. “I guess you could say that my mother programmed me to wear a bra. She never really told me why. She just told me I needed to wear a bra.”

Bob looked at me as if I was patronizing him. “It’s the truth,” I said to him running a finger down his cheek, not being one least ashamed of being exposed to him. Why should I have been? I was his wife after all. He opened his mouth to say something but I quieted him with a kiss.

~*~

 

I found my time with Bob exhilarating and meaningful. He wasn’t like a piston that kept going until you asked him to stop. On some level, I know Bob enjoyed our lovemaking too. He was…attentive and very much like a man; but not without me having multiple orgasms before he came.

And he even slept though I’m sure he didn’t need it. He held me close. “Thank you,” he told me, while he lay on his back.

I laughed. Bob was even being playful (as playful as Bob could be). “Thank you,” I questioned. “What do you have to be thankful for?”

“For trusting me,” he said to me.

“Bob, my friend,” I said to him using that classic line from Casablanca. “This could be the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”

And it was….


End file.
